


Low

by kidcarma



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Bloodplay, Explicit Sexual Content, Hate Sex, Humiliation, Light Bondage, M/M, Minor Violence, Nosebleed, Pain, Under-negotiated Kink, shoe licking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-15
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25281535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kidcarma/pseuds/kidcarma
Summary: The simultaneous shudder and bolt of anger rips through him at “Hinata, you’re not even fit to lick my shoes, but maybe if you beg for it, I’ll let you.”So, of course he begs for it.
Relationships: Hinata Hajime/Komaeda Nagito
Comments: 10
Kudos: 166





	Low

**Author's Note:**

> just another horny fic- admittedly i have a strange fascination w nosebleeds so. that's what this is. hope u enjoy!

There’s something so horribly depraved about all this. 

How someone could turn on a dime, just like that, though Komaeda is no stranger to that anyway so Hinata’s not sure why he’s surprised. Shouldn’t be, really. The simultaneous shudder and bolt of anger rips through him at “Hinata, you’re not even fit to lick my shoes, but maybe if you beg for it, I’ll let you.”   
  


So, of course he begs for it.   
  


Grits his teeth because, _hey_ , sometimes all you have left is your pride and you have to swallow it to appease the one person who will give you attention when _almost_ all the others think you’re a traitor. That you’re below them. That you’re nothing. Not that they would say it, of course. 

Maybe Hinata admires Komaeda’s honesty.   
Maybe that’s why, when Komaeda produces a rope he’d procured from the final dead room, Hinata blanches and casts his gaze downward but _lets_ Komaeda tie his hands behind his back. He puts up a fight, one that lasts for only a few seconds and it makes the rope bite into his skin harder, but a fight nonetheless. 

And when Komaeda is done with that, he steps away and settles himself nicely, sitting on the couch, right leg crossed over his left, eyeing Hinata expectantly across the room. 

He could just leave.   
Could just. Walk out of Komaeda’s cabin but then again the thought of being seen slinking away with his hands secured behind his back- the thought of having to ask someone else for help to undo the rope and the inevitable questions of _how did this happen? He did this to you?_ is too intimidating.   
  
  
And well. Besides all that. He had begged for this to happen.   
  


“Well?” Komaeda says lifting an eyebrow. 

“ _Well?_ ” Hinata shoots back mockingly out of instinct, eye twitching, nose flared. 

“You’re acting like you didn’t agree to this,” and that _burns_. “You should really be more grateful, Hinata-kun, and get on the floor before I change my mind about letting scum like you anywhere near me.” 

“You’re fucked up,” Hinata says, frowning. He flexes his fingers with the fleeting hope of _maybe_ , just maybe, Komaeda sucks at tying knots, to no avail. A few seconds drag onward and finally he gives in, takes the steps to meet Komaeda and sinks to his knees. “You know that?”

“I could argue the same for you.” 

Face still twisted into something sour, Hinata shifts for a moment, settling into what is most comfortable, and when he finds it in himself to turn his eyes upward, it hits him square that he’s level with Komaeda’s shoe. Conveniently, since Komaeda’s legs are crossed, it’s propped up at the perfect place for him to inspect warily. His eyes fall to the rubber of the soles, the sharp glint of the zippers, and before he loses his nerve he swallows thickly and leans forward, pressing his lips against the material like he came here to do. 

“Hey,” Komaeda scoffs, retracting his foot just as Hinata’s mouth makes contact. “I didn’t say you could start.” 

“What else could you _possibly_ want from m-“  
  


_Crack_. 

  
It takes a second for the sensation to catch up with the sound, but Hinata recoils, a sharp, white hot pain blooming across his face as Komaeda _kicks him_. The tip of his shoe collides with Hinata’s nose and he jerks as he’s sent backward, trying to process the sudden throbbing. 

He’s silent, heaving in air through his mouth, eyes wide as the pulsing heat under his skin grows, spreads, until he realizes that blood is cascading over his lip and dripping onto the floor. 

“You didn’t have to make me do that, Hinata-kun,” Komaeda laments, as though he isn’t the one who just drove his foot into Hinata’s face, and Hinata rips his gaze up and away from the droplets on the floor. “And look. You’ve made a mess.” 

Begrudgingly he looks downward again, too shocked to even process anger, and realizes in horror that some of his blood has sprayed onto Komaeda’s shoe. Not the one that had kicked him, but the one that was planted firmly on the ground for leverage. It’s spattered and is probably going to stain but Hinata’s stomach drops even farther when Komaeda speaks again. 

“I suppose I’ve withheld it long enough. Go on. Get started. You’re going to have to clean that up.”   
  


_He’s not joking_. 

Hinata knows better than to even ask that.   
  


Pain still radiating throughout his face, making tears prick at his eyes, Hinata leans forward and down again, chest practically against the floor in order to reach and drags his tongue along the material of Komaeda’s shoe. The tang of iron hits his tongue as he pulls it into his mouth to swallow, but the gesture has little effect, since the blood is still flowing freely from his nose. He’s simply replaced the mess he had cleaned, Hinata realizes, a cycle that will continue and he has a feeling that Komaeda is not interested in letting him take the easy way out. 

Pausing, he runs his tongue over his top lip in a pathetic attempt to slow the flow, and then moves to lick the shoe again. 

“You’ve accepted your situation then, it seems,” Komaeda hums above him and Hinata doesn’t even spare him the energy to look up. “Good boy.” 

The praise does more for him than it should, Hinata won’t admit, and falters when he registers that the heat in his groin is almost as prevalent as the heat in his face. 

But he pushes onward. 

With his hands tied behind his back, it requires a great effort to hold his upper body up instead of collapsing entirely on the ground, and after a few minutes, his core begins to burn. Shaking with effort, Hinata blinks the tears away, trying to work faster as though maybe that would make this end- and not a second too soon. He knows though, that the humiliation is going to linger far past the time he leaves this cottage. 

It seems there’s a respite finally, and Hinata inhales a deep breath, in which Komaeda takes the opportunity to press the tip of his other shoe past Hinata’s lips. 

“You have to do both.”

“I didn’t bleed on this one,” Hinata pulls back to argue but Komaeda shoves his foot forward again, silencing him, and the jostling movement makes a fresh droplet of blood trail faster downward, onto the shoe.   
  
“Yes, you did.” 

Gagging, Hinata glares up at him, but complies, tonguing away the viscous liquid and swallowing it with a grimace. 

It’s when the nausea settles into his stomach that Hinata remembers that you’re supposed to tip your head forward and not backward during nosebleeds for a reason. The blood isn’t settling well, the back of his throat is burning, and he fights back a wave discomfort, his gut rolling. 

Throwing up on Komaeda’s shoes would be quite possibly the worst outcome in this situation, Hinata decides, so he lifts himself up, trying to sit more steadily and get some proper air.   
Komaeda studies him as he takes a few deep breaths, but says nothing, until his stare settles on Hinata’s crotch. 

“Wow, Hinata-kun. You’re turned on by this? How sick.” 

And that just makes his pants tighter. 

“Fuck you,” Hinata wheezes, the action of speaking sending another jolt of pain through his features. He knows Komaeda is just as turned on right now. If not even more so. He’s got a prime view of Komaeda’s crotch. 

“I don’t think you’ve earned that.” Komaeda has a dangerous glint in his eye. “And honestly, I don’t think you ever could.” 

Still stewing, wishing he had something to staunch the bleeding, Hinata watches as Komaeda shifts, leans back a little so when he reaches downward he can grip the zipper of his fly. Tugs it down, pops the button, shoves the elastic waistband of his boxers out of the way and pulls his cock out. It looks painfully hard. 

“Come closer,” Komaeda tells him and so he does because _what else can he do?_ Hinata sits himself between Komaeda’s knees, the wind getting knocked from his lungs as Komaeda starts to stroke himself.   
Being inches away from his dick but knowing he won’t even dare to touch it is infuriating. Komaeda’s smug, self satisfied grin sits softly upon his face, eyelids fluttering and fighting to stay open so he can meet the gratifying sight of Hinata, mouth slick in his own spit and sweat and blood. 

“How does it feel to know you can’t even be good for this?” Komaeda asks but it’s not as intimidating as it could be, particularly because of the breathy tone he’s taken on. “That you just- ngh- that you just have to watch as someone better than you handles it.” 

Hinata licks his lip. 

“Answer me.”

“I don’t know,” Hinata breathes because he doesn’t want to admit how aroused he is. “How does it feel, Komaeda? That’s all you’ve done your whole life, right? Sit back and let people with a _real_ talent shine.” 

Komaeda’s hand moves faster. 

“You’re nothing,” Komaeda gasps, his hips bucking up into his own touch and with his free hand, he grabs Hinata by the hair. Fisting violently into the strands, he pulls Hinata closer, ignores the yelp, holds him there. “Lower than trash.” 

“Fuck you,” Hinata spits out again because _he can’t think of anything else._

Everything in him is heightened, climbing, and Hinata wishes he could see the look on Komaeda’s face when he reaches his end. But he knows it’s better to close his eyes, commit the sounds to memory instead as Komaeda works himself faster and faster, the slick sliding of skin on skin, until he groans softly, coming onto Hinata’s face. 

Hinata waits for it to be over, waits for Komaeda to release the grip on his hair, and when he does, Hinata pulls back, opening his eyes. Cum paints his cheeks, mouth, and the bridge of his nose and maybe if he wasn’t feeling so humiliated he might thank Komaeda for managing to miss his eyes.  
He can only imagine the wreck he must look like. Semen and blood smeared together and he can’t even wipe it away yet. 

There’s only the thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears and Komaeda’s shuddering breaths- it fills the room, and with each passing moment, Hinata realizes just how much pain he’s in. His arms, his wrists, his nose, his stomach, his-

“I hope you don’t think I’m going to help you with that,” Komaeda murmurs, his chest still heaving, gesturing downward to where Hinata is still straining against the constraints of his pants.

“Yeah,” Hinata sighs. “Didn’t think so.”

**Author's Note:**

> red was SO kind as to draw a sexy piece based on this, as you can see ive included it here. look at him he's so angry. here's a link to the post, please go check her out if u havent already bc her content is so good and i owe her my life for this (thank u so much red i am crying)  
> https://mystxmomo.tumblr.com/post/625391374528856064/a-commission-from-kidcarma-and-then-a-piece-of


End file.
